


Sore Loser

by pirategirljack



Category: Nikita (TV 2010)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Makeouts, sami's weekly one shots 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 06:02:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5616364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pirategirljack/pseuds/pirategirljack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sonya keeps winning when they play video games.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sore Loser

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ohgress](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ohgress/gifts).



> Part of a collection of prompted one-shots I'm gonna do this year!

“I win!” Sonya said for the fifth time, her hands in the air and her face nothing but smiles. The first time, Birkhoff had been proud of her (he’s almost always proud of her) and she was so pretty when she smiled like that, he’d rewarded her with kisses. Now, though, it was starting to feel like a scam and he was getting annoyed. 

Birkhoff was much more familiar with annoyed than with happy, anyway. It felt like hom.

“Did you hack the system again?”

“What? Seymour, no, that’s preposterous.”

“You did it before. We all know you did.”

“No, YOU did, because it was the only way to access the internet when the house was locked down, and I HELPED.” Now Sonya was annoyed, and her voice had that edge to it that always meant something was going to go sideways on him, but he’d already said it, so he would ride it out. He pulled back, forced himself to look less aggressive, and raised his hands--though not in surrender. Shadow Walker doesn’t surrender.

“Hey hey hey, look, it’s a fact that the machine has been hacked in the past. And this game is lame. Let’s play something else.”

“Puzzle games aren’t ‘lame’. They train your mind to solve problems.”

“I don’t have any problem solving anything,” he said, shuffling through the stack of games, looking for one specific-- “Aha!”

Sonya looked at the game, at him grinning triumphantly, and lifted one arched eyebrow. “That one? Really?”

“This is a classic! What, are you afraid your skillz won’t translate to shooters?” He risked a suggestive lean-in, and he saw the corners of her mouth trying to smile and her forcing them to frown. “Ha!” he said, but softly, and kissed her cheek. Then her ear. Then her neck. Maybe the game could wait…

Sonya pushed him away with a laugh and picked up her controller. “Okay, you win! Let’s see how well we do on your turf.”

“Baby, all games are my turf.”

\---

Two hours later…

“I win!” she said *again*, her hands in the air AGAIN, as if it was just as surprising as it was the first time.

“That--that’s not--that isn’t--”

“Aww, are you feeling a little *beaten* down, love?”

“I’ll show you beaten down,” Birkhoff growled as he lunged for her, but despite the absolutely real annoyance still bubbling under his skin, any threat was barely even pretending to be real. He caught her around the waist and pushed her backward into the couch and she squawked somewhere between a laugh and a parrot-sound, and made a show of trying to push him off while somehow not actually managing to do anything at all. He got his hands up against her ribs and started tickling her, and her squawking became more like yelping and kicking in between laughing and bargaining.

“No no no, stop stop stop, I conceed, I give, I won’t beat you anymore!”

“Yeah you will,” he said, snuggling into her and moving his hands from her ribs to her face. “You will, and I’ll hate it, and you’ll keep doing it until I win for real.”

“Bold, aren’t you. So sure of yourself.”

“Always.”

Her face was all soft and smiling, her hand lacing through his hair, and he’d never loved her more. “What makes you think you can beat the South UK Regional gaming champion three years running, then?” She said.

“No way.”

“Way!”

“You little--” But whatever outraged ‘I was tricked’ sort of thing he was about to say was cut off when she kissed him and he suddenly didn’t care anymore. Then she kissed him again, and he kissed her back, and they both dropped their controllers to free their hands for other sorts of games.

“Still gonna beat you,” he mumbled into her shoulder on his way elsewhere.

“Let’s see you try,” she gasped as he reached his first stop at the edge of her shirt.

And that was a game they both could win at, so they kept going.


End file.
